


Humans Who Read Altean

by VotumStellarum



Series: The Only Five Humans [2]
Category: Voltron: Legendary Defender
Genre: Control Kink, Friends to Lovers, Hand Jobs, Hanging Out, In like a lamb out like a lion, Keith is restrained, Lance is released, M/M, Modesty VS Moxie, Oral Sex, Resolved Sexual Tension, Restraint VS Release, Semi-sweet, Unresolved Sexual Tension, Voice Kink, crossing a new line, edited in post, klance, learning to read Altean, reading before bed
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-12-28
Updated: 2016-12-28
Packaged: 2018-09-10 14:01:24
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 11,460
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8919907
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/VotumStellarum/pseuds/VotumStellarum
Summary: After The Only Five Humans -- The team is dismissed for bed, but Lance and Keith decide that neither of them can just go to sleep right after that conversation.// by this point Keith and Lance are good teammates and there's some tension they have not yet put into words.





	

“...I'd get used to it, I guess, but... damn.”

“Well, I’m pretty sure it IS her, but I doubt we’ll ever get him to admit either way," Keith replied.

Lance stepped into the room before Keith could enter and try to hide anything-- but there was nothing interesting in sight. Keith entered, the door automatically closed behind him, leaving the two of them alone for the first time all day; coincidentally, the first time since leaving the showers after the previous mission.

"Right. So anyway, let’s look at something completely different! You've got some mind bleach, right?" Lance changed the subject with his usual comedic tone and casual pace, but behind that facade his mind was racing to catch up to the situation.

Despite receiving instructions from Shiro to sleep before the mission tomorrow, Lance had acted on the impulse to come to Keith's room, specifically to look through some ‘mature content’ magazines discovered in the castle library. Despite receiving the same instructions to sleep, Keith didn't tell Lance to go away.

They had been up for nearly nineteen hours already, but here they were: neither in the mood for sleep, both perhaps still on some short adrenaline spike after Hunk and Pidge so easily joked about the two of them in the shower.

For the past two days Lance had been stacking thoughts into a tall pile on his mind, figuring he would deal with it all later. Outwardly appearing unaffected, he dropped his jacket, kicked off his boots, and pulled a recent thought from the top of the unorganized stack.

"Hey, by the way," Lance shrugged, "...I wasn't planning to bring that up in front of the whole team.  It just felt like Shiro was aiming that whole lecture at ME.  So I went on the defensive and tagged you in too.  Sorry."

Keith replied without fuss, "Well, the timing was pretty suspicious. Maybe he really did hear about it somehow. But it wasn't from me."

"You’re not mad now?"

"No, I wasn’t mad before, just…" With a dismissive sound, not quite a chuckle, Keith started again, "Whatever, now everybody knows but nobody cares."

Keith had just removed his boots and hung up his jacket, but by the time he turned back Lance had already stripped down to his shorts and socks, sitting on the bed as though it were a locker room bench.

"Are you hot?" No sound of concern nor of flirting, Keith's tone implied ' _Do you need me to turn on a fan?_ '

"Not yet, but, you know..." came the laid back answer as Lance peeled off his socks. "These bunks are programmed to stay really warm during sleep hours, right? I figured I'd ditch the extra layers now, and spare us the awkward 'hey, mind if I take off my pants' conversation later."

"Okay. But for the record, it's not awkward when you don't make a big deal of it."

"Keith, you might not believe it, but I actually DO have a shred of modesty, so you can shut your quiznak." Lance mocked his teammate's serious face, then cheerfully dropped both socks to the floor.

Keith let a short sigh and maybe a smile, but it was visible only briefly before he lowered himself onto his knees next to bed. Lance felt his pulse quicken as he was suddenly, and unexpectedly, looking down at the top of Keith's hair.

"You're right, I don't believe it. And now you're using that word wrong on purpose."

Keith crouched down on all fours to reach under the bed. First he pulled out a box with a couple of devices and his Bayard, then behind that was another long box with multiple stacks of colorful publications.

Of course, that was why Keith was down on his knees: the magazines.  It took only a tick for Lance to shake off the embarrassment, but slowing his pulse took a few moments longer. The periodicals laid in four separate stacks by their feet; some were slim, others were thicker bound like anthologies, between 60 and 70 titles total.

"Wow."

"Alright, so..." Keith pulled himself up onto the bed to sit next to Lance. "Pick what you want to borrow."

"Dude, I was thinking you had, like, ten... How should I know where to begin with this many?"

Lance picked up the first magazine from the top of one stack -- the cover was a loose ink drawing of a building by a coastline with Altean writing filling the space in the sky around it. This looked like a travel guide, conspicuously lacking in sexuality, and as "porn" made no sense at all.

However, once he opened the book and flipped through a few pages, he saw clear, graphic activity that made _complete_ sense. This was well illustrated and some very expressive characters were tangled up in a very sexual situation.

Okay, yes, definitely porn, but different from the magazines that usually circulated in the pilot locker rooms at the Garrison; less repetitive, more emotive.

Lance unintentionally imagined Keith reading this. Does he look for good action shots and _get to it_? Is he already undressed when he picks a book? And then what? As more thoughts leaked in, Lance felt himself wading into them, his palms getting warmer. Then Keith's voice broke in like a splash.

"So, I think there's a rule about the covers.  None of them have any people on them, but..." Keith leaned close to point at parts of the Altean writing, "...This is the key phrase when you're looking in the library."

"These first two letters are on every book with any graphic sex content, the second is different if it’s graphic violence. On the shelf, they appear with a third letter which I guess means 'category'. Then these two or three letters tell if the story is centered on male or female or--"

"Okay, hold up," Lance stopped the language lesson with a laugh. "It's not like I'm gonna memorize all this Altean writing in one night... For now just show me your favorites."

"These are my favorites," Keith replied flatly, gesturing to all four stacks. "That's why I brought them here. The vast majority are still in the library."

"You've got, like, a hundred books here!"

"There are fifty. Or maybe sixty now. Sixty-five, max." Keith stated coolly, as fact.

"Then show me your top three." Lance sounded friendly as he lobbied for Keith to select a title. If Keith would pick something first, that would give Lance the advantage, but this was developing as do many negotiations with Keith: not in favor of Lance.

"I don't know. I can’t really rank them like that”, with a slight shrug Keith dodged the question again, “These are all good, but my top three would change constantly, depending on my mood."

"OKAY," Lance parried with frustration, "So how about your CURRENT mood? What would _pitch a spectacular tent in your shorts right this minute?_ "

Keith blinked back, eyes widening, his brows dropped slightly into a look of disbelief.

And Lance immediately he wished he could retract the bossy undertone. That wasn't the approach he wanted to take, and trying to corner the Red Paladin very rarely ended well. On a bad day Lance would expect to be forcibly removed from the bunk, but backing down rarely resolved anything either when it came to Keith.

Lance locked eyes with just a hint of smirk. If this became an argument, he silently decided he would escalate it to a wrestling match.  But during that 2.7 ticks, Keith did not start a fight; he calmly returned the stare, until his eyebrows softly rose again with his reply.

"Let's do it this way... You answer a few questions and I'll pick a few that fit what I think you want, okay?"

The suggestion from Keith was quieter by the same amount that the question from Lance had been louder. Lance noted that reaction differed from his expectation while Keith started pulling magazines out, checking the text on each cover. "Do you feel like... solo, two characters, or groups?"

"Hm... two at a time is usually my preference," Lance used a light and upbeat voice, as if his body wasn't still tingling, braced for impromptu sparring. Keith sorted the stack of magazines into separate piles like a card dealer, now with a shorter stack in front of himself.

"Next choose multi-gender, male/female, all male, or all female."

"Multi-gender means male and female plus what else?"

"Honestly," Keith shrugged, "I can't tell from the drawings what the other genders are. 'Multi' is definitely a different category in the library, but the Altean definition of gender probably includes things that you can't tell by looking at someone."

"That's fair... Well...... I guess... let's go with... male/female?" Slowly and with a sideways glance, Lance made a half-hearted selection. "I mean, for me really it depends what the characters are like, but..."

Keith was already thumbing through the stack, checking the spine labels, when Lance tapped his elbow to interrupt.

"But wait, so..." Lance leaned forward, resting his elbows on his knees to catch whatever expression might show on Keith's face, "...um, if you've got those others here, then I guess you like to read about things between just guys, too? Right? Or at least you don't _dislike_ guys who--"

"Lance, _I like all of these books_. That's why they're in my room instead of in the library. Pretty sure I'm repeating myself now."

Damn it, any other day Lance would've been ready with some hilarious comment about his buddy Keith enjoying a bratwurst festival. At that moment it would have been so satisfying, but the words just wouldn't line up in his mouth. Lance looked down to the stack of magazines and tried to speak again but the reply collapsed like a faulty Jenga tower in his mind.

Naturally, Keith knew Lance well enough to expect a joke about sausages, so when he didn't hear one, he looked up and witnessed Lance tripping over himself internally. Keith probably laughed, but moved on so quickly Lance didn't catch it.

"So of these, how about--"

"Actually, wait... okay..." Lance interrupted, then moved to lean against the headboard, bringing one leg up onto the bed with him. "You know what... I'm really curious now." With a little more distance between, he intended to get a better read on his opponent's body language.

"If you keep magazines with action between two guys under your bed... I want to see those."

 

With the grace of an underpaid bookstore employee, Keith exchanged the stack in his lap with the one he had set aside before, then pulled a few magazine sized comic books to set between them.  If there had been any pause while Keith felt self-conscious about sharing them, it would have been so short that Lance didn't catch that either.   

"Alright, these..." and as Keith laid each magazine on the bed. He turned them to orient the text correctly, but Lance ignored the vaguely misleading covers and instead watching the reactions to each when Keith paused to read the titles; the difference between each was so very subtle, but when Lance perceived something he reached out.

"So what's that one about? Not the one in your hand, but the one below it you just touched."

"...hm? Oh."

Keith paused; this glossy magazine had a thick card stock cover with a simple blue and white dot pattern and pink text, but Keith glanced away from it just briefly. _Score._ Lance internally congratulated himself for noticing; Keith handed it over.

"This one is really well-drawn, but story is kinda complicated. It took me a while to figure it out, but...” Keith straightened the other magazines into a stack, which Lance noticed wasn’t really necessary but it kept his eyes too busy to make contact again.

“...Anyway, you can borrow it tonight if you want, but this is one you **cannot** keep," Keith finished.

"Sweet. Must be really good!" Lance took it and gleefully surveyed the opening pages.

“It was worth the effort,” Keith added, his eyes still on another book, away from the other guy on his bed.

 

On the page where Lance began, the scenery was an epic mountain range, and then a few panels later, it was a detailed city overlooking a bright valley. Some blocks of text covered parts of the illustrations and a group of six people dressed in ornate clothing were seen walking down a road, until the location in another panel changed to a tree planted in the side of a mountain.

Lance didn't bother trying to guess any of the dialogue. He kept turning pages and the stylish characters, all different shapes, sizes, genders wandered through a series of backgrounds. _So two of them are gonna hook up at some point? Which ones? Why?_

After a few more pages he felt increasingly lost, and finally he took personal offense to the illegible text taunting him.

"Dude, this is impossible."

"Well, I told you that one was complicated." Keith reached to hand him another book. "Here, try something with less text and more graphic story."

"No way, I wanna know why you like **this one**. Who are these people? Why are you turned on by them teleporting all over the place?!"

Keith leaned toward him to point at the page, "They're not teleporting. Look, on this page they left this town after lunch, and then we skip ahead.  Down here they're talking about getting dinner at the next hotel, so you know th--"

"DINNER?! How can you read enough to know what they're saying?!"

"You'll be able to read it too, if you don't give up after two pages..." Keith took a breath and really focused some effort into NOT sounding like a prick. "The more you look at it, the more you'll get used to the writing patterns and then by the context you'll figure out the vocabulary."

Lance stared back with an unconvinced pout. He knew this particular teammate had a talent for deciphering cryptic alien communications, but _really?_ REALLY??

In response to that pout, Keith gestured to the page Lance had open and continued impersonating a good tutor.

"Okay, so these proper nouns are kinda hard, but you can still guess whether it's a person or place.  Like this word -- see these four letters? I have no idea how to pronounce it, but it doesn't matter. For the purpose of understanding the story, we can be pretty sure it's this guy's name. Look for whenever someone else says it, like here or here. He answers, but he never says that word to anyone else.”

“........” Lance stared at that panel attempting to memorize that formation of lines and dots, Keith moved on.

“So then later in this panel, these are the same four letters, right? Which means we can guess this other guy is saying his name..." Keith lowered his volume, notably. "...and then by... the _context_ , we can guess WHY this guy would be saying his name, right? You'll get it if you keep trying. That's all it takes." 

Lance locked up, unable to respond. He felt some combination of impressed, patronized and really frustrated. He slapped both hands down on his thighs before he spoke up.

"You know, I speak three languages back on Earth.  I’m not some idiot who can’t communicate, but this _writing_ is... ugh, it's just a bunch of wiggly squares and stupid dots!"

Lance realized he was throwing his frustration at an innocent bystander, but couldn’t hide the petty tone in his voice. _Man, fuck this alphabet. Ancient Rome made the best glyph system OF ALL TIME._

Keith likely also realized Lance just needed to vent briefly; he absently thumbed through a different book.  "Well, I guess I might have an advantage."

"Ohhh, of course, agile, attractive and humble, too. What AREN'T you good at?"

"I'm only talking about this writing system, _cargo pilot_."

Lance usually found that nickname to be playful, but he laughed out loud at Keith's marvelously inappropriate timing.

"Actually, strike my last statement. You're a dick." Lance grinned, pointing a finger at Keith, who sighed but with enough smile to show he accepted the assessment.

"I just mean... somehow it seems a lot like writing I learned when I was really little. It's hard to explain why, but the patterns are just easy for me to remember. It doesn’t make me special. Literally millions of Alteans would laugh at how slowly I read."

Lance resisted the urge to be sarcastic or snarky. He was done venting and then, allowing a sigh, he turned back to challenge the magazine again.

But the lines were still wiggly and the dots still looked stupid, so Lance skipped ahead through the pages until he got to a scene with no speech balloons at all, and was quite glad that he had kept going. He stopped to study these pages in detail:

On this page, a graceful young man in upscale collegiate attire was being roughly undressed by a taller, athletic guy who looked like he might ride motorcycles.

The drawings were vivid and energetic all over, but Lance was hung up on the expressions of this scholar. In each panel, the character looked conflicted, but not unwilling. The scholar seemed to want more from the athlete, but at the same time was restraining himself. After a minute or so of trying to understand it, Lance turned the page and found the athlete pinning the scholar to a wall, with each panel across the page they were exposing more skin, showing less control.

A few pages later, it appeared to be some kind of magic battle, spells were cast, and the athlete had the advantage over the scholar. He used two fingers to hit _a very specific spot_ on his target's body; the drawings were interpretive, not literal, but there was no question what was happening when the scholar melted down in ecstasy. On the following page, the now mostly-undressed but still dandy college boy exploded under the touch, making a beautiful mess of graphic moaning, body fluids and sparkling halftones.

Then thoughts were deep enough for Lance to swim: he was definitely affected, but was it just curiosity? Was it empathy? Did he want to explode like that? Hell yes, bring it on. What about that _specific_  point of contact?  Maybe not. Well, maybe? It might feel good. But probably not under a beefy, rugged biker guy gone nearly berserk.

What about under a sleek, fiery biker guy who is firmly in control?

"Keith... um," Lance caught himself to be sure his voice didn't break, "Can you give me some backstory for what's going on with these two?"

Keith had been holding the other book, but he probably paused to watch Lance react to that scene. Once spoken to, Keith pushed himself back until he could lean against the wall, sitting with his legs up on the mattress.

"Yeah, sure... first, you have to know..." Keith flipped back to a page with the rest of the characters and pointed to one, "This guy is a summoner. He calls element spirits -- these guys here -- to fight to protect this kingdom. So like, when he summons this fire spirit, then he becomes a mage that can cast fire spells."

"Ah ha, so is that why this girl just appeared out of nowhere right here? He summoned her?"

"Yeah, she's a Planet spirit and after she was summoned, he cast a spell to cause an earthquake."

"Huh. ...OH, I get it! That's why these soldiers fell off the cliff. That makes a lot more sense!"

"Right. You also have to know these spirits form a team to stop an invasion."

"These five fight together you mean? ...WHOA! I just noticed they're dressed in the same colors as our lions!"

"Yep. I guess this set of colors are a common theme in Altean culture... but beyond that, this team is not much like us, I promise." Keith smiled knowingly while Lance flipped back to check the pages with no text.  This time Lance noted the scholarly-looking spirit was dressed all in shades of blue, while the athletic-looking spirit pinning him down was dressed in green. Lance grinned, then shot a deadpan look to Keith.

"Dude, what are you talking about, this is exactly like us. If it ever came to this, Pidge would dominate the fancy blue pants off my ass, I'm sure."

"If it ever came to --?!"

Both of them broke into rowdy laughter that went a little louder and longer than normal. - “ _Hahahaaa_ , if you and Pidge ever get into a fight that leads to… _oh god, hahaaahaha!_ ” - “ _Aaah_  you know I would do it for the sake of science. And then we'd find out how that device works! Hunk would be down to help too, _I'm sure-hahahaaa…_ ” - Lance rocked back against the headboard again and under his laughter noted that sleep still seemed impossible at this rate. Keith caught his breath first.

"Ahh, you don't have much in common with the blue fighter in this book, but actually, this guy here..." leaning in, Keith pointed to the spirit in green, "...I’d say the Air spirit reminds me of you.  A lot."

Lance nearly choked, but played the sound off as part of his laughter.

"Wh--?! Th-the jock who completely _wrecked_ that pretty boy is ME? How do you figure?!" The reaction from Lance rekindled the fit of silliness in both of them, but Keith might have been a little embarrassed; he made effort through their laughter to explain his opinion.

"No, really! If y-- _listen_ , if you read the whole series, you'll see this guy seems like a complete goof, always interrupting with jokes and trying to pick up girls, but... he's really sharp when he needs to be, and he kicks all ass in a fight. The team knows they can count on him…”

Keith let his sentence end there, but Lance could concretely hear the subtext _‘this character is my favorite’_. 

At a loss for reply, Lance unconsciously glanced away, and watching the inactive door made his face feel cooler than looking at his teammate right now.  

"...Well, I AM cut like a hot soccer player, so I guess I can see some resemblance."

 

"Anyway," clearing his throat, Keith straightened up a bit and pointed at the panels as he went forward through the story.

"The chapter is about the team training. Water spends all his free time training and here, Air is telling him that the training has already plateaued because their strongest abilities are connected to their primal, instinctive souls, but Water doesn't accept that.

Air tells Water that the training he practices is attempting to keep his primal soul contained and sealed away, when he should instead be learning how to let it out and control it. They still disagree so then on this page... Air challenges Water to a sparring match to prove which technique is more powerful."

Turning a few more pages brought them to the beginning of the scene against the wall.

Keith inhaled as if to speak, but didn't; they both carefully looked over the next pages to view how the match ended.

 

"Okay, so there's obviously major chemistry between Air and Water, right?” Lance sat back as he questioned, “I don't get why Water would still be conflicted when they get to the payoff? That doesn't make any sense.”

"What?? It makes perfect sense! It's a big risk to just... let go and act on primal instinct. Obviously."

"You have GOT to be kidding. Look at this!" Lance let the pitch of his voice rise a bit as he pointed to a panel which showed the Water spirit on the floor, with one leg straddled by the Air spirit who was giving attention to an impressive erection even before the dressy blue slacks were removed.

"Who the hell could get to this point and still be thinking 'maybe I should just keep it pent up forever, that's healthy'? No one, man."

"Well, YOU leave yourself open and vulnerable all the time..."

"I'm just saying if I were this Water spirit, and this Air spirit, who I trust, came on to me like this... AND on top of that we were so obviously hot for each other," Lance paused for a thought, then gave a dramatic shrug, "...I don't know, I just can't think of anything to be afraid of."

"......" Keith sat back with a quiet hmph, resting his head against the wall. "I don't think the conflict is fear versus courage. It's restraint versus release."

A tiny light bulb clicked on in his mind and Lance quickly turned down the confrontational tone. "...How so...?"

"Well, I mean... from what I can tell, in this whole series he's really invested in proving himself useful to the team, especially to the summoner. So for him to just give in to his primal urges... it can't just be random or casual. There has to be a lot of trust, and even then, it probably takes some work to... undo those knots."

 

 "...... Interesting."

 

Keith put his feet to the floor and stood up suddenly. Lance reflexively yanked the book back over his lap, but his teammate walked toward a door without even a glance to the bed. He spoke back into the room as he left.

"I'm going to brush my teeth. Don't do anything obscene to my bed while I'm gone, okay?"

"Deal, but if you're not back in three minutes, I'll assume you're spanking it and I'll break the door in. Only fair."

They both snickered, another symptom of how silly, tired and tense they'd become. The washroom door closed behind Keith with a soft automated sound.

 

Lance sat back against the headboard, magazine propped in his lap. He flipped back to the first page and, now equipped with much more information, this time the art bloomed intensely.

Though the text was still illegible, he recognized the colors of the elemental spirits in the backgrounds and followed the flow of their movement through the panels in correct order this time.

Most importantly, Lance could now very clearly see the erotic energy between Water and Air. He could see how disciplined the Water spirit was about his training, and how the Air spirit interrupting with something that was probably a joke embarrassed Water and repeatedly tested his restraint. Their interactions were more engaging than the rest of the characters, and Lance imagined dialogue for just the two of them.

And then he turned to the page where their face-off led up to the wall.

 

With that, Lance took a slow, deep breath in, and he silently decided that he didn't relate as the star of this scenario. Yes, he would describe that climax as _fucking phenomenal_ , and he didn't stop himself from reaching down to his own shorts while Keith was away. But Lance also recognized he was not the restrained and disciplined fighter.

He really wanted to be one to bring about that release. Lance visualized a particular someone else falling apart like that under his hands, and felt the familiar, warm tingle tighten up some inches below his navel.  Damn, this book made mutual pleasure look so effortless, nothing could go wrong.

Maybe that added some pressure in his mind. Was Lance skilled enough to set off fireworks like that? Psht, of course. Would any of his past experience apply to Keith? ...No guarantees. But signs point to maybe. And what about the risk if Lance couldn’t break through all that discipline?  At best, utter rejection; at worst, utter rejection with acute physical injury. Keith was no cupcake in hand-to-hand combat.

Somewhere between these thoughts, the automatic door opened. Lance moved to sit upright, closing the magazine.

 

"Lance..." Keith shuffled in, presumably with his teeth clean; his voice was calmer and notably deeper in the pitch than the laughter last heard from him. "You can take that one with you to your room."

"Thanks, but I'm good for now, I don't need to keep it."

"Let me say this another way... I need you to leave."

Lance felt like he took a kick to the side, but feigned nonchalance to reply, "...Why, what's up? Do you feel sick or something?"

"No, but I will tomorrow during the mission if I don't finish this and go to sleep. Just take whatever you want to borrow and you can bring it back later," Keith ran one hand through his hair, scratched his neck briefly and spoke directly to the stack of books, no eye contact with the guy on the bed.

But Lance had _just now_ been formulating a plan to resolve the stack of unorganized thoughts on his mind -- he decided he was too close to give up yet.

"What do you need to finish, man? I can help..."

" _ **Lance, get the fuck out**_ ," Keith's voice was dark and serious, his eyebrows were tight and his eyes tense, but his lips somehow struggled not to smile? Lance thought that unusual, and watched Keith put one palm to his forehead pushing the hair away from his nose.

And then Lance broke into raucous laughter; Keith didn't move, blinking only once, as if he expected that reaction. With a deep sigh, Lance managed to speak through his laughter, patting the mattress where Keith had been sitting earlier.

" _Aaaahhh_ , haa-- this, my dude, is karma. Heh heh, you might as well have a seat and _get to it_ , because I'm definitely not leaving now."

"What th--? KARMA??"

"Yeah! You watched me _shellac my schlong_ in the shower, aaaaand now the universe has decided it's your turn, _hahahaaa_..." Lance could not stop giggling.

"That is not how karma works. And this is not a discussion.   _We're done here, get out of my room._ " Keith ran both hands over his face, quicker this time, as if struggling to wake himself up. A real problem was that his words were selected to sound aggressive, but his voice was soaked with frustration instead. When their eyes met again, that became a problem for both of them.

A peach-colored tint was rising in Keith's face which, to Lance, felt like an elevator door closing -- he felt a pinch of urgency.

"We're **not** done here yet.  I'm not leaving."

"Yes, you are. **Now**."

"Make me."

Keith opened both eyes, took one step, then stopped. Lance braced himself for some kind of impact, but they both knew Keith would get no leverage while Lance had his back against the headboard. Lance imagined if Keith lunged forward, he could pin him to the mattress with a judo maneuver.

Keith might have envisioned the same outcome, and more color rose in his face; he sighed.

"Lance, we have to be up in, like, two hours now."

"Are you shitting me? What time is it?!"

All jokes aside, Lance's shoulders and jaw dropped when Keith tapped a button in the wall to reveal a ticker and alarm set.

"Fuuuuck... Although... you set your alarm kinda early."

"Alright, so if we don't shower or eat anything before departure, that gives us what? Three... maybe three and half hours of sleep?" Keith raised his voice and Lance moved to put his feet on the floor.

 

"Then we'd better BOTH _get to it_."

"Get to WHAT exactly?? How about YOU get to ' _the fuck out of my room_ ', so I can--"

That thought was ended abruptly when the Blue Paladin took a gamble. Lance jumped up from the bed and in 1.5 strides was inches away from Keith.

He had expected the sudden movement to startle Keith into stepping back toward the wall; however Keith didn't move, except for his eyes and lips just barely. Lance nearly crashed right into him, but corrected his balance quickly, one hand landing on Keith's side.  In the same motion, Lance tugged the bottom of Keith's shirt out, and grabbed for the top of his pants, but he couldn't get hold of the waistband under the utility belt Keith was still wearing.

Lance took another step forward into Keith, second attempt to push him back to the wall, but Keith deflected the movement smoothly. Keith braced himself for another advance, but didn't throw any counter.

So when they halted, Lance had both hands under the shirt, against the skin of Keith's obliques, and Keith stood firmly planted by the edge of the bed, more than arm's distance from the wall.

Both were accustomed to this kind of contact since Lance started joining Keith in training exercises, but at this moment each point of touch felt increasingly deliberate. Lance felt a flutter of nerves just briefly; he thought he'd prefer Keith give him a snide remark or even an angry shout instead of this impossible-to-read silent stare; but within two ticks all nervousness faded to the background.  Keith remained silent, Lance spoke up.

 

"Okay, so... this weapon-belt-thing has got to go. Take it off."

Keith blinked back, eyes growing wider with the same look of disbelief as before, but his words were disproportionately quiet.

" _You think I take orders from you?_ "

"Look, I don't know how this thing buckles, so if you don't take it off I will tear it or break something and not even care..." Lance was absolute in his tone: no anger, but no kidding. He managed slip one finger, then another, under the belt behind Keith's back. "If you want to keep it, take it off. Quickly."

The change in Keith's breathing happened before that last word, but Lance just noticed it now. He was still on guard for a sudden shout match or perhaps even a sucker punch-- this opponent seemed suspiciously compliant.

With a quiet sigh, Keith lifted up one of the pockets up to reveal the belt buckle, which was on the side hidden under a clip to tuck away the excess length when it was tightened. 

Lance noted mentally: one, oh, that's a cool design, and two, that's the secret to getting it undone. The belt was removed and Keith stood, with his eyes fixed on Lance, motionless except for his breathing, a bit shallow now. When Keith wet his lips and handed it over, without breaking eye contact, Lance was suddenly hit with the realization.

Keith might be... not just mildly, but... _really turned on_.

 _Wait, wow, turned on by..._ In just less than two ticks, Lance processed: Keith said it couldn't be random or casual, but...? 

Could that mean what he really wants is for someone to remove all uncertainty or doubt? Does he want  _permission_ to be unrestrained? What if Keith gets hot from being _commanded_ to give in to his urges? The last pieces of this puzzle sorted themselves in his mind and a dark smile spread across Lance's face.

Lance took a second gamble: he accepted the utility belt with one hand and with the other hand, slid four fingers behind the band where Keith's pants were fastened, but didn't open them. This left Keith with both hands available, and enough space to step away.

But Keith's feet stayed in place and both hands ended up carefully braced against Lance's elbows, his gaze steady.

"Now lose the pants, too."

"You sure that wouldn't be awkward? What about your modesty?"

Lance raised his chin just a bit, to appreciate being close enough to make Keith tilt his neck up slightly.

"My modesty is over there somewhere right now, probably under my socks. I'll handle yours too, just give me a few minutes."

"And you think you can just 'handle' my sense of decency?"

"I'll do exactly that. _With both hands_. And I'll have you under me moaning my name."

"You _wh--_ "

" **Say I won't. _I dare you to say I won't._** "

 

Keith ran his hands over his face and through his hair again as he looked to the floor.  

His attention came back up, tracing the contours of Lance, along his legs, hips, waist, chest, and shoulders. When their eyes met again, Keith allowed a short, nearly silent laugh. Lance took half a step back, folded his arms, and repeated his command a little louder.

"Now get rid of the pants."

In his mind, Lance was jumping around and shouting as Keith reached to unclip his own waistband.  He was waving a huge, imaginary flag waved when Keith finally removed, folded with perhaps a little extra care than was needed in this situation, then dropped the pants to the side.

While outwardly Lance did well to pretend he was in charge, once left with a visibly heated Keith in his usual tee and slightly strained undershorts, all calm was slipping away. Those properly folded pants could not hit the floor fast enough.

" _Nice work, cadet._ " Lance finally charged Keith, pushing him back against the wall he'd been aiming for. Bracing one hand against the wall by Keith's neck as he leaned in close, and his other hand glided from the inside of Keith's thigh up into his shorts through the bottom. Keith was possibly peeved by that nickname but his words were cut out by an interesting sound as soon as Lance had slipped inside passed the hem of his shorts.  "Would yo- _uah-_ "

A throaty noise escaped Keith when he felt three fingers grip him tightly at the base; Lance using his thumb to test how firm he had become. To keep additional sounds under control, Keith held his lips tightly together.

Not bad; Lance contentedly squeezed again, considered it to be comfortably similar to his own in size. Then Keith must have felt a rush of air, much cooler by contrast to the warmth and humidity inside his shorts, when Lance flipped his wrist to push the fabric up and pull Keith's swollen cock out into the room through the leg opening. Keith closed both eyes again, his fingers tightening up on Lance's elbows, and he exhaled slowly to keep his voice inside, but the result was almost a growl.

"Stand up straight, feet apart," Lance leaned in to speak against Keith's neck. Lance released his grip then his fingers glided up the length to the very tip, already a bit wet now. Keith slowly complied, leaving himself open and Lance inspected, with both hands as promised.

"Ca- ** _aah-_** nmm- can you hit the light...?" Keith glanced over to the bed, but Lance ignored that request and reached both hands around Keith's lower back, underneath the shirt. Pulling their bodies together pressed his own aching cock against Keith, who felt the heated silhouette in detail through the shorts against his hip.

Keith couldn't suppress the moan; a startlingly clear **_oahh_** rung out among the breathy sounds he had made so far. _Every inch_ of Lance reacted to that note, he inhaled sharply and swore.

Likely embarrassed, Keith quickly tucked his chin to his collarbone and within a few careful breaths, had himself quietly contained once more. At that moment Lance decided his goal. Never mind the stunts or glitter of that magazine for now; he would be satisfied to make Keith moan his name _like that_. Lance nipped at Keith's ear, before stepping back from the wall to look him over and to form some kind of plan.

As they separated, Keith brought his arms down and slouched back against the wall with his eyes closed, his breathing quiet but intense, his shirt pulled up to his rib cage, his cock completely exposed out through the leg of his shorts, and still wearing his socks and gloves.  

Lance took a moment of appreciate that Keith's skin was smooth, creamy and fair all over, except a particular handful that was flushed with color and heat.  He plotted to _remove all doubt_ about how much he liked this look on Keith.

"Okay, now about that modesty..."

Keith focused his eyes on the tanned legs and feet just in front of his own. The reply was as soft and carefully controlled, "...just... turn off the light."

"I have a better idea," Lance cheerfully offered, as he took Keith's hand, other hand on Keith's waist as though leading a waltz, and then turned them both 180 degrees. Now Lance leaned back against the wall; he'd been in only his shorts, but one small zone still remained protected and he guided Keith's available hand to it.

"Undress me."

Keith laughed, "That's completely unrelated. You're not 'dressed' in the first place."

"It is related, so do it," Using the hand on which he still had a dance partner hold, Lance pulled Keith in to continue firmly next to his ear.  "If you don't get me out of these shorts, you know I'll _hold it against you_ for a really long time."

" **Pft** , Lance, can you quit with the jokes just for right n- _uah- nnm._ "

Keith stopped himself from laughing and started that request, but Lance slipped both hands behind his neck, pulling him close and when his exposed tip brushed against Lance's thigh, Keith's train of thought derailed.

Lance lowered his volume, "You have your orders, cadet."

The stare Keith gave Lance at that moment was intense, and Lance decided it was sexy but complicated. He wondered whether Keith could be genuinely annoyed at that nickname. But that was a very brief thought. After all, Lance found the moniker amusing to say and the tense blush it induced was worth it; if this went as planned Keith would be satisfied anyway.

Keith then avoided his smirk. Without pause he took hold of the waistband on Lance's short at the sides with both hands and roughly pulled down. Lance let out a gasp when the front elastic snagged and then, with a smirk, Keith reached inside, behind the waistband to firmly grip the shaft and unhook the fabric from it.

When the shorts fell to his knees binding his legs together, Lance stepped out of one side to widen his stance and lean more securely against the wall, keeping Keith close to him.

Keith maintained his grip, and brought his other hand over to stroke the top, cautiously examining where Lance was swollen and firming up, the complicated look still on his face. Lance twisted one finger in the hair on the nape of Keith's neck, and questioned directly.

"Sooo...?"

"You're ridiculous."  Keith let that answer sit for a moment, before he swallowed and continued, "There's no reason for your cock to get this _thick and heavy._ "  Keith pulled the skin toward himself, then pushed back and let one hand softly reach under the sack, his fingers understanding the sensitive spot just behind it. Lance inhaled sharply and Keith finished his thought.

"...now I see why you get distracted all the time."

Lance was buckling under the contact. "Hey, _aah-_ I can't tell... are you jealous maybe...?"

"........"

" _Mm-_ or do you just really want it?"

"...pretty sure I'm not jealous."

Lance ran his fingers up deeper into Keith's hair at the back of the head, and suddenly Keith's eyes widened again. In the span of less than a tick, Keith felt his center of gravity tip just a little too far forward, he put one foot forward to catch himself, then possibly guessed what Lance intended.

"Lance, w-wait, I--"

Keith was silenced once the other had pulled him close enough to take his mouth up into a kiss. Lance gently, but quickly, pushed his tongue between Keith's lips and as Lance accessed deeper and more firmly, all the tension that kiss generated flowed into Keith's fists roughly squeezing the meaty cock he'd been admiring.

That kiss affected Lance more than he had anticipated; leaning back into the wall, he felt his knees genuinely weaken and his heart thump audibly.  How long had it been since he'd first started imagining the sensation of Keith's tongue and lips?  This much warm skin contact with him all at once was surreal.  Could Keith have imagined something like this would happen?

With a sweet murmur, Lance concluded that kiss, tangled his fingers into Keith's hair almost tightly enough to say he was pulling it, and spread his feet apart to widen his stance against the wall by a little more.

Keith's look of disbelief now included his lips parted just a bit, though he may not have closed his mouth at all since the other tongue penetrated it. And Lance spoke.

" ** _Suck it._** "

 

Keith swallowed hard, while Lance was working intently to keep eye contact. He was internally divided between sentiments of ' _I just said that to him!_ ' and ' _why have I not said that to him before now?_ '

The weight of the hands on Keith's neck increased and he tipped forward. He reached both palms to the wall on either side of Lance's waist, then for a moment he gave some feeble effort to resist gravity. But within a few more breaths, Keith's hands slid down the wall.

When he landed on his knees, Lance noted his pulse was about 150% faster than the last time he looked down at the top of Keith's head. He was genuinely unprepared for the wet heat of Keith's mouth, and when Keith took him in, the first few sounds Lance made were clumsy and a bit louder than he wanted.

Maybe that was for the better; Keith gave no indication that he was timid, but the sounds Lance produced seemed to be pretty encouraging.  Keith took as much in at once as he could, and then slowly backed off, gripping the base with one fist. His tongue grazed every line and curve while his other hand stroked the inside thigh and attentively clinched the sack; perhaps that technique appeared in another book from under the bed. Tugging at Keith's hair again, Lance spoke a few words, more quietly than any other sound he had made so far.

"That's good... Like that-oooh, _shit,_ Keith.   _Yes,_ _**just like that…**_ "

Lance was unapologetically aroused; he responded to every sensation Keith gave him, without censorship or restraint. Over those minutes, Keith became more adventurous and Lance became more vocal.

The tongue working on him become rougher and more impatient, like trying to melt through the outer coating of an ice cream bar to get to the flavor inside and Lance allowed his volume to increase until he felt obscene. At one point, Lance actually feared he might wake the others or set off an automated alarm with his indecent shouting, and Keith almost lost his breath, but didn't relent.

When Lance felt himself unconsciously push back into the mouth on him, he bluntly took Keith by both shoulders to break contact.

"Th-that is... _ah-_ for right now, stop there."

Keith was visibly surprised, but complied, releasing Lance from his grasp, still throbbing and now also moistened. With a deep breath, Lance gave himself space enough to lower down to his knees, eye level with Keith; his hands followed along every line of Keith's body from his shoulders, over his chest, down to his hips and to the distorted shorts in which he'd been tangled.

"That worked. You aren't feeling shy any more, so now guess what comes next?" Lance managed to hold his voice steady and well-composed compared to Keith's quiet and heated answer.

" _YOU_ , if you would stand still for a minute, _fuck._ "

Full stop for exactly one tick. Keith sighed softly, wishing he could undo that reply. Lance needed a deeper breath in order to speak.

"W-wow, without even pausing, Keith. Good one."

" _Ugh_ , you're rubbing off on me..."

"Actually, I'm not yet, but next time _don't mind if I do._ " Lance was so tense; he hugged Keith tightly and fell into laughter, though he really did not mean to. Keith returned the embrace and took an audibly frustrated breath, resting his head against Lance's shoulder, which hid his face and prompted the other to lower his voice as he pulled them both up to standing.

"Keith... when you walked in on me, I tried to sound really irritated, but... I was so close to telling you to stay and watch me finish... I don't know how you would've reacted, but..."

Once on his feet Keith let out a heavy sigh and raised his head, nose just barely touching the other's cheek when he picked up from the idea Lance left hanging.

"I don't know either.  A day ago I might have freaked out, but... right now... that's the one thing I want even more than sleep. I want you to finish  _all over me..._  I won't last even 30 seconds more."

Lance needed another deep breath in, and then out.

"I like that idea. A lot...”

But in the space after those words, Keith waited, expecting Lance to continue with ' _...however here's some reason why I won't..._ '  The room was silent until finally Keith whispered, “So…?”

Lance straightened his posture, upright with a bright smile. “Don't worry, I've got this. Trust me."

And Lance didn't allow time for any reply before escorting Keith abruptly to the bed, removing the tee as he walked. He pushed Keith down onto the mattress and finally removed the shorts so they were both exposed properly. Lance then arched himself up over Keith, fitting one knee snugly between Keith's thighs, just under his bottom; exactly the position he'd been imagining since he put down the magazine.

Keith, propped up slightly on his elbows, might have wanted some explanation, but Lance was strangely not talkative now. Lance bent at the waist enough to lean down and just graze Keith's lips with his own. Leaning back, Keith closed his eyes as though the light in the room was too bright to handle anymore. With one hand, Lance took gentle hold of Keith by the cock and dragged his fingers up to the very tip. He traced over the head and slit, very aware of the tickle when Keith bucked just a bit. After a breath or two, touching lips so softly it could barely be called a kiss, Lance straightened up, on his knees over Keith.

Then, Lance took one last gamble -- although he was feeling so lucky at this point it was nearly zero risk -- without warning, he squeezed tightly and pushed Keith deep into his grip.

 

As expected Keith had been lulled into a tranquil state; he didn't hold back any sound now. The first note was deep, smooth " _mn-ua **aAHH!**_ " and loud enough to make even Lance feel flushed; he could barely believe it was the same voice that fought to suppress any moan before, and it made him grip tighter. Keith pleaded for more contact, without words, but with sounds forming a sensual melody that Lance would repeat many times over in his mind.

" **Perfect.** _Sing to me, just like that._ "

Lance felt heat creep up his neck and down his abs; he held his grip steady and continued to thrust and pull, a bit faster.  As the speed rose, Keith opened both eyes to look down at the hand that had him, much tanner and more aggressive than his own, and moving faster still.

"Aahh-- _the fuck_ , Lance... _wh-- agh, wait…_ "

Lance increased the pace enough that his own breathing became heavy.

" _Will-will you-- **uaah-** "  _Keith clearly gave up trying to form a sentence.  He let his head fall back against the mattress, eyes closed, mouth open to catch his breath.

Lance adjusted his pressure and strength in response to the sounds Keith made, but never let up on his pace. Emerging from the uptempo breathing and the melodic tone, Keith quietly hissed a few words that Lance understood.

" _... **aah** , Lance, jus-- a-agh-- just a little bit tighter…_"

_"Like _ **this**?_   _Sing louder_ "_

Keith responded exactly as ordered, tilting his head back even more, and Lance felt so tempted to lean down again and make a mark on Keith's pristine bare neck. It was such a clear opening. But he did not.  Lance kept himself kneeling over the task at one hand, and slipped his other hand behind Keith's neck into his hair.

 _" _Look at me…_ " _Lance spoke with as much breath in his voice as if he'd run a few miles to get to this position.

Keith blinked, and glanced down again to the hand on him, but gasped and his eyes shut tightly. _" _Uahh,_ I ca-- _...nnm._ "_

Lance spoke again, still panting, but with more authority. _"Keith, _ **watch me…**_ _ I'll stop if you don't look me in the eye and say you want it. _"_

Lance knew that was an empty threat, but Keith must have heard it as a command that would be rewarded. He opened his eyes again, squinting, adjusting to the light and then let his focus fall on the face of the Blue Paladin.

" _Do you want it?_ "

_" _Yes, sir **.**_ "_

 

Keith was so tightly wound up, his chest rose and fell as though he'd sprinted to catch up to Lance, and when their eyes met again, Keith likely felt every part of himself clench.  From that position, back to the mattress looking up, somehow Lance appeared completely prepared for this.

Keith surely could see Lance was excited, and maybe struggling to stay calm, but he was in control of everything on this bed right now; staying on top with the same cocky, goofy, sexy attitude as when piloting. _When the fuck did he become such a porn star?_ All of these sensations were immense.  

For Keith it was apparently easier, by an order of magnitude, to look down at Lance's hand than to hold eye contact while being blatantly pleasured. But he wanted to do it, and Lance reached his eyes with an exquisitely sexual intensity.

At the same time, in his own mind, Lance was cycling through every word he had ever heard trying to identify the feeling he got from Keith at that moment.

 

Then that moment was gone; Keith's eyes shut tight, his hips lifted up into the grip, his neck tilted back into the mattress. Keith's voice reached out with a clean baritone phrase climbing into higher into notes Lance had never heard from him before. It elicited a raw, deep growl Lance did not bother to hide.

_"...nmm-- _ **Lance, please**... don't stop, please--aah--_ "_

_"Keith, _ **do it.**_ "_

_" _...uaahh, don't stop, **don't stop, ah** -I-- I'm gonna **c--UAAGH**_ "_

His eyes closed tightly again, his breath hitched repeatedly and Keith was overcome, spilling over Lance's hands, onto his own torso, and a little on the mattress to his side.

Lance held his breath, watching the eruption from above, and he noted that it wasn't as sparkly as in the magazine but it was so much more intense because  _holy shit he just did that to **Keith**_.  Lance was reeling for a moment, as if trying to record every sensation: _this is what Keith feels like, what he sounds like, what he looks like when he..._   

 

By the time Keith could take a slow breath in and opened his eyes, Lance had almost completely recovered himself and wore a triumphant smirk.  And Keith's skin was glowing contentedly for certain, but he also might have been a little annoyed by how calm Lance appeared.

"Now... your turn," Keith stated as coolly as he could manage at this moment, and pulled Lance by one shoulder toward him, attempting to reverse their positions.

"I told you, I'm good for now." Lance leaned close, braced on his elbows which prevented him being flipped over.

"I'm not going to just leave you like that." Keith asserted a brief smile as he reached to explore how Lance was feeling at that moment; firm and warm but not throbbing like before. Lance recoiled from the touch, with a short peep like it tickled him then a chuckle.

 _" _At ease,_ cadet, _I'm already satisfied. _"_

 _"_ I have a handful of evidence to the contrary, _captain."_

"......"

Eyes widening, Lance shifted onto his belly, grabbed the pillow and buried his face in it.  Keith might have assumed Lance was embarrassed, but that was disproven shortly after when Lance exclaimed, loudly, though muffled into the bedding.  

"Fuuuuck, I wish I had known...  I cannot believe this... unbelievable! I just-- _fffffuuu this daaay--_ "  He continued growling into the pillow, and Keith watched with a bit of concern.

"Um... what exactly can't you believe?"

Lance rolled onto his side, "...I can't believe ... That I'm here in your bed, that I got you off, that you just called me ' _CAPTAIN_ ' ...but that I already...... _ugh._ " Lance planted his face in the pillow again.

Keith maintained a calm voice, while his face displayed all the disbelief. "You wh--?"

"If I'd known, obviously I would have held off after the third or fourth time, but I don't expect fireworks again today without sleep..." Lance rolled onto his back again, lowering his volume and letting his voice trail off. "I mean... you can keep trying if you want but... oh hey, the healing pods might help? ...Ugh, but the others will notice if I turn one on..."

"Wh--?! We've been flying ALL DAY!"

"Yeah, well, I made time. And most recent was right after we finished dinner, so..."

"So..."

Keith let out a slow, smooth breath, as his back softened into the mattress, "...so then Shiro WAS aiming that lecture at you. There's no way he didn't notice."

"Yeah. I figured he'd probably guess why I kept disappearing. Buuuuut I also knew if I went through the whole day with raging wood, everyone ELSE would notice. So I took things into my own hands. Repeatedly."

Keith's expression was still incredulous, but now at least 60% amused grin.

Although Lance was still a bit tense, he felt warm all over watching the frustration of some minutes ago evaporate leaving a satisfied smile on his teammate.  He could still imagine the melodic sound of Keith wound up tight; by contrast now that same voice was contented and surprisingly cozy.

"Well... guess we'll settle this later..." When Keith spoke now, the tone was amused, velvety, the volume low. "For now, it means Shiro wasn't talking to me at all. That lecture had nothing to do with the showers or ME."

"Hey now, I already apologized for bringing it up in front of the team, but -- news flash -- it had _everything_ to do with you. You are 100% the cause. Don't think I was lathering up in there over Coran."

Distracted, Keith reached over Lance out toward the edge of the bed, but then just as quickly, he had a second thought and stayed flat on his back.

"Um, could you... hand me a cloth? From over there on the floor, there should be something just under the bed on that side."

Lance did so, and after he handed it over, Keith used it to wipe the fluids from his abs and chest, cringing slightly, trying not to push excess down his side onto the sheets, although Lance noted a spot on the sheets where he had overshot a bit. Leaning on one elbow, Lance watched more attentively than Keith might have preferred; really Lance just enjoyed taking all the credit for this mess.

"No offense to Coran, by the way, but THIS is what was thinking about." 

"About looking through porn when we really should be sleeping?" Keith replied, folding the damp cloth into a wad to toss back to the floor.

"That pile of books was just an excuse. I was thinking about you..."

Keith lowered his eyebrows, casting a skeptical glance.

"I mean, you, _like this._ Stripped down, sweating and sloppy, sucking me like a thick milkshake. __This is what I came for…_ "_

Keith tightened the corners of his mouth and met Lance's eyes with a look of _‘ _did you just say--?_ ’_

And Lance leaned close, his nose barely touched Keith's ear, ". _..four times_ in the last 12 hours. Which isn't a personal record or anything, but still a formidable performance, I'd say."

"......Lance, stop." Keith replied curtly, but Lance could hear the smile.

"You know, back at the Garrison, they didn't call me **The Butcher** because of how I well handled my fruits and vegetables, right? _Right??_ I'm just saying--"

 _" ** _Pfft_** -goddamn it, Lance, hahahaha--_" Keith broke into laughter, pulling his knees up just a bit, rubbing both hands over his eyes.

Keith inhaled and Lance showed he was pleased to get that reaction, moving close to dot his lips on Keith's neck just below the ear.

" _Ugh_ , just when I start thinking of you as my hot teammate, you always say some completely ridiculous shit, and then..."

Lance put one hand to Keith's waist, whose hand traced up the wrist and elbow to rest on Lance's shoulder.

"And then you're my hot teammate who says ridiculous shit."

"Come on, man, I leveled up this time. Now I'm your _obscenely_ hot teammate who says ridiculous shit _AND_  makes a mess of your bed.  It's about time you just accept how much you secretly want me."

"That... wasn't really much of a secret..." Keith turned just enough to hide his face in the pillow now, though he didn't shout.  "...But still, this is the worst I've scored at staying calm about it." 

"Why bother with calm? This was fantastic. I mean, there's a lot we can improve with some practice but you don't regret it, do you?"

"Heh, not yet."

Keith's tone carried enough sweetness that it was probably a joke. Most likely. But there was still a darkness to that answer that made Lance want to be closer. He slid the hand on Keith's side down slightly, then paused, consciously reminding himself: don't get sentimental, don't put him on the spot.

 

"Keith, seriously, all jokes aside... and even without any sex favors, you..."

Lance paused to consider what he could say here.

... have been on my mind for longer than I should admit? ... are officially The Most Gratifying Hookup I've ever had so congrats? ... can trust me, with all of this, I promise?

But finally, Lance spoke aloud, finishing that sentence with:

"... are the hottest guy I know who can read Altean."

 

At that, Keith pulled himself closer, unexpectedly tightening their embrace enough for Lance to now feel Keith's heartbeat peacefully cooling down.  Lance couldn't stop himself from speaking again,

" _Mm_ , Keith, I..."

But what did he actually want to say?

... actually might love you right now? ... believe you're the best treatment for my homesickness? ... am pretty new to these kinks, would you be willing to complete a short survey for quality and training purposes?

Composure in his mind prevailed and Lance decided to actually finish with:

"... am spent right now, but I’m definitely going to collect what you owe me. Just so we're both clear about that."

"Mm, you should say you owe ME."

Lance paused to sincerely consider that. He disliked the idea of leaving Keith unsatisfied and didn't he finish everything except--

" _Oh._  Okay, then I still owe you a _facial_."

Keith turned to look at the wall, running a hand through the hair behind his ear, and Lance might have seen him cover a laugh, but couldn't be sure, "Guess you could say it that way."

"What? Do you prefer a _pearl necklace_? How would YOU say it?"

"I wouldn't," Keith turned to face his obscenely hot teammate again, and carefully lowered his pitch. "I... I like when you do the talking."

"Good. Because I like when you do the _singing_."

Keith made a low sound, reflexively hiding his face with one palm, then likely regretted drawing attention to it. Lance, however, was clearly smitten with both the sounds and the blushing about it. After a deep breath, Keith relaxed back into his arms and Lance could feel his own body grow heavier, as if the mattress were pulling him deeper.

 

"Anyway, let me know when it's my turn.  Hopefully you manage to keep your hands off yourself for a full day."

"Speaking of which, we should come up with some codewords, so during the day we can duck away from everyone else separately and reconvene in secret."

"That's a bad idea. Pidge will crack any code you try to make up. And Hunk will catch you if you try to lie outright. It'll be less suspicious to just say we're going to the same place for something boring."

"You think so?" Lance propped himself up almost directly over the increasingly drowsy Keith.  "Should I just say 'hey, Keith, let's take a break and go buff some bananas'?"

"........"

"Or how about I tell the team 'Keith and I have to go tenderize some meat in my room. Be back later'... That's so obvious that no one will suspect we're actually slapping salami, _hahaa, ahhh..._ Pidge has a radar for meat metaphors though.  We should stick with bananas I guess..."

"Lance, just for right now... can you not?" The voice was so low, sleepy, and Keith's fingers traced up further through the short brown hair to the top of Lance’s head.  “Can we just pause the commentary for now, sleep, and then continue all this after the mission?”

Lance laughed at himself, realizing he was quickly coming back down from a pretty high peak. Meanwhile Keith looked so blissfully content and half-asleep now, that suddenly seemed like a really great idea.

“Copy that, we'll set up communication codes later. Lights out, cadet."

Keith opened his eyes wide and in one motion rolled over to push Lance down, shoulders to the sheets. Lance didn't resist, simply blinked up awaiting some explanation.

"Listen to me. No matter what kind of code or innuendo you use in front of the team... _that word_ does NOT leave this room. Do you understand?"

"Wow, is it really that big of a deal? ...Okay, well, _I know it is_ , but I just really like how you blush when I say it."

"Lance, just... n-not in front of anyone else, okay? I'm trusting you."

"Okay. Then it's just between us. You can trust me."

Keith held eye contact for another moment, but apparently satisfied with that answer, he reached to the switch, the light in the bunk went dark, and he lowered himself down to meet Lance in a very sleepy kiss. That was followed by a few more.

After which, Keith lowered the rest of himself down onto Lance below like a heavy duvet, smoothly fitting along every shape of the body under him. The warm weight relaxed Lance and he slipped into some kind of lucid dream about staying in Keith's room every night. Why bother with the sheets in his own bunk? Keith was a temperature-controlled therapeutic blanket that could also wash itself! The others shouldn't mind if he monopolizes the Red Paladin. It made perfect sense in his mind.

It felt like four minutes had passed when a piercing beep, in concert with an electronic buzz ignited in the room. Keith's alarm.

"NOPE. Noooope nope nope, nope. Nope nope nope."

Lance vocalized his discontent until Keith peeled himself up to tap a different switch on the wall and silence the noise.

Gently Keith lowered himself back down onto Lance just as before and the good news is the two of them had the most comfortable, restful sleep they'd experienced in months.

 

The bad news is that he didn't set another alarm and they both slept clear through breakfast, through Hunk trying to page them both, twice, and through the scheduled mission departure time.

When Allura ran a scan of the castle, and their biosignatures both turned up in Keith's room, Hunk and Pidge began ranking theories about what finally pushed them over the edge this time.

The theory discussion started moving toward hall, but fortunately for the two who overslept, the Black Paladin stopped Hunk and Pidge from going to wake them up; Shiro had an unshakable feeling that he should go alone to extract them from Keith's room.

And his feeling was correct. Even if someone had wanted to believe the two had been up training all night, the stacks of magazines on the floor were conspicuous. Clothing strewn around the floor in no order was another issue, and finally the damp, now sticky cloth, which turned out to have been one of Lance's socks, carried a potent, familiar scent that could not be denied.

Shiro omitted those details when he reported back to the team that the Red and Blue Paladins would be joining later, but Pidge and Hunk learned that the catalyst was Keith teaching Lance how to 'read Altean'.

The mission was postponed about 20 more hours for everyone to be properly rested and cleaned up. From that day forward, whenever someone mentioned reading Altean, it held an additional new meaning in the Castle of Lions.

**Author's Note:**

> Poor Keith thinks he'll never recover from the embarrassment facing the team the next day //////// ...but rly no1curr they all saw this coming. 
> 
> Lance wonders if Shiro had ever accidentally pushed that commanding officer button on Keith, until wait, actually no, he decides to let that remain a mystery.
> 
> About two days later Lance gives Keith what is owed and it is glorious.
> 
>  
> 
> // if I mis-tagged or missed any tags for this type of fic, please let me know! I'm still learning the way around AO3, but love it and hope to fit in. Thanks for reading.*:･ﾟ✧


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